It Didn't Work

Yesterday I had a first visit with a Berkeley acupuncturist. It was interesting.

First, I spent half an hour filling out medical history forms which the acupuncturist did not look at before treating me. This answered my unspoken question, "is all this information really necessary for acupuncture?"

Then, as my arms and neck filled with needles, he asked me (after finding out that I am in law school) whether the word "must" in court rules indicates a judge has discretion. (I answered that "must" and "shall" usually leave no room for discretion). Interested, I asked what it was about. Turned out he's challenging a search warrant that was issued in federal court. As we discussed the law, I wondered what the feds were likely searching for. Out of pure prejudice and stereotyping I speculated it was for marijuana (he being an acupuncturist in Berkeley). I'm currently studying for my criminal procedure final exam which covers the validity of search warrants so the conversation was timely and interestesting on both sides (despite the needles)

He then turned on a "relaxation tape" and left the room. I was really excited to relax. (typical) The tape began with a man's voice:

"Picture yourself on a boat, on a blue sea with billowing white sails and a clear blue sky, with nothing to worry about and all the time in the world to enjoy the sun and the breeze."

Right on. I'm digging the boat scene. Starting to relax. Then followed the usual technique of relaxing the body, one part at a time.

"Relax your shoulders, feel the tension melting away. Relax your neck and your scalp. Now, focus on your foehid . . . "

Wait -- did he just say "foehid" instead of "forehead"? Yes. He did. And he did again several more times, "relax all the worry lines on your foehid," "feel the tension leaving your foehid." Every "foehid" brought me further from relaxation and closer to giggles (except that would have made the needles hurt).

After he "relaxed" the rest of my body, he indicated that he would pause for a minute so I could enjoy my new state of relaxation. Unfortunately, while he paused, I could hear him, on tape, take a huge gulp of whatever beverage he had beside him. This, alas created more tension as I had to hold back laughter (so the needles wouldn't hurt).

Then began a mantra of going "deeper, deeper" into relaxation and I realized that this was actually a hypnosis tape. Now there was no way I could relax because a) I have a dirty mind and every time he said "deeper" (practically every other word for about fifteen minutes) I found it sexually suggestive and therefore offensive because it was coming from a man who said "foehid"; b) I found it presumptuous of foehid-man to think that he could control my mind/body -- whether for good or evil (I had yet to see); and c) what the hell kind of caregiver tries to hypnotize you without asking your permission first? (Answer: the kind that has the feds searching his premises)

The hypnosis also didn't work on me because just before foehid-man had me go down the mental flight of stairs to a deeper state of consciousness, he mentioned that the stairs were carpeted in my favorite color. That caused me to wonder what my favorite color is (I've never been able to commit) and if I had one, would it look good as stair-carpet? And do my mental stairs have to be carpeted? Because I really prefer natural wood.

In case you're wondering why I had not yet turned off the offensive hypnosis tape, the answer is twofold. First, I was covered with needles and couldn't move without being unpleasantly poked. Second, I am perverse.

Once we theoretically reached the bottom of my mental staircase, and I had gone "deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper" (disgusting) into hypnosis, foehid-man's grand plans for me became apparent. "You will feel relaxed in your everyday life and be able to make decisions quickly and efficiently," he repeated over and over and over again, and over again for good measure. This I didn't understand at all. Even if I accepted foehid-man's presumption that I have a difficult time making decisions (I couldn't choose a carpet color), how would making efficient decisions help me with my repetative stress injury, the condition for which I was theoretically being treated? Shouldn't this hypnosis have at the very least been telling my body to stop hurting? Or telling me to stretch more often?

Eventually, foehid-man felt he had had a sufficient effect on my subconscious. I wouldn't remember what he said, but would simply make efficient decisions from now on. He counted to five to awaken me feeling refreshed, happy, and relaxed with a general sense of well-being. He said no more and I listed to static for the final ten minutes of my session.

Acupuncturist came in and removed the needles. This was the extent of our follow-up conversation:

"What did you think of the tape?"
"Not really my cup of tea"
"What about his accent?"
"Yeah! he kept saying 'foehid' . . . "
"You can get dressed now"

He hid in his office as I made casual conversation with the odd receptionist -- just long enough to see if he would come out and, perhaps, discuss the treatment/future treatment with me. He didn't. And that was that.

Good Will

Once in a while, Shaun and I threaten our children with donating their toys to Good Will. It begins with a simple request to clean their room. Hours later, it ends with the statement that anything they leave on the floor is clearly something they don't value and will be given to Good Will. It's an effective statement which has been challenged by Lily: "I don't want those toys anyway" and once or twice followed through with donations.

Today, out of the blue, Lily asked me, "Why does the guy Good Will want kids' toys?"

Sweet Talk

Lily and I were snuggling before bed.

"Lily, you're my favorite five-year-old in the whole world. I love you."

"Mommy, you're my favorite.... How old are you, Mommy?"

"I'm thirty-eight"

"Oh. You're my favorite -- (pause) You're really old!"

Awkward

I've created an awkward situation with my professor. He's not that much older than I am, and a regular kind of guy, so much so that I've considered inviting him and his wife and kids over for dinner with my family (but then I imagined her reaction, "do we have to go to dinner with one of your students?? Jeeze!! -- although I was probably projecting my own reaction to Shaun's inquiry about whether I'd like to dine with the family of one of his co-workers). Anyway, at graduation I saw him, came over to say hello, and before I thought about what I was doing, I gave him a big hug. Not that there's anything wrong with a hug, especially in California. But it didn't go well with the fact that I was still calling him Professor R., and that although I had imagined we could be friends, we weren't. But there it was. The hug. He didn't seem to mind or seem put off by it. So I decided to just forget about it.


Unfortunately, I hadn't thought through what that hug meant with regard to future encounters. Specifically, once hugged, can one return to a handshake? Or is that like some sort of demotion in esteem. I was faced with this dilemma a couple of weeks ago when I met him for lunch to discuss my future career plans and, as it turned out, a position as his research assistant. We met, and I had a split second to decide whether to hug, hold out my hand, or just say hello and not touch at all. Because it took me a hair longer than a split second to decide, it was awkward. Then more so when I went in for the hug. Then more so as his response was of the somewhat rigid variety. (Not in the dirty way you're thinking).


You'd think that would keep me from future hugs, but it didn't. I'm in some compulsive downward spiral of awkwardness. I had to hug him goodbye that day, although I managed to do a sideways shoulder squeeze which felt a bit less intrusive. And then I met with him last night to discuss my research work and had to hug him again as I said goodbye. I think I made it less awkward by apologizing for the hug and explaining "I'm just a hugger." I'm pretty sure that made things better.


Professor R. suggested that we "meet" in the future by email. I good idea, I think. I am really glad he wrote my recommendations before the hug-a-thon began.